


I've Seen Enough Hentai...

by bactaqueen



Category: Captain America (Comics)
Genre: Grumpy Old Men, M/M, Sex Pollen, Tentacles, some gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2013-12-08
Packaged: 2018-01-03 23:08:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1074140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bactaqueen/pseuds/bactaqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky and Logan fight off a tentacle monster spewing "sex pollen" in Times Square. They end up trapped in Gotham City Video and smut ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Seen Enough Hentai...

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Recognizable characters belong to their respective owners. No profit is earned and no infringement is intended.
> 
> Author’s Note: I have enablers. I was enabled. And I'm still not sorry. I didn't stop laughing the whole time I was writing this, even when it got away from me. This was fun.

A lot of weird things had happened in Times Square, but Bucky thought the giant purple squid-like monster with hundreds of writhing tentacles that ended in what looked like penises was probably one of the weirdest. At the center of the squirming nightmare was the beast's head and body, vaguely cone-shaped, and set with glowing orange eyes. Worst of all, though, were the thousands of tiny, pulsing sphincters all along the tentacles and set into the tips. They oozed something gooey and orange that smelled musky-sweet. Sometimes they even _sprayed_ it. 

Bucky knew he was going to have a whole new set of nightmares to contend with. 

Times Square had evacuated, but according to radio communications from helicarrier command, help was still fifteen or twenty minutes out. 

"What the hell are the Avengers doing?" Bucky demanded. 

"I'm sorry, sir," was his only response. 

Bucky threw the shield, bounced it off a billboard, and sliced two tentacles clean off the creature's body. Two more snaked toward him, the blunt ends dripping the orange goo. One tentacle wrapped around his ankle and the other curved around his thigh. Bucky unsheathed the tactical knife with its eight-inch blade and started hacking. 

He almost didn't see the flash of yellow and blue, but the lingering scent of cigar smoke was strong enough to overpower the musky-sweet liquid scent. He heard the _snikt_ of Adamantium claws extending. Suddenly, his legs were free. 

"What the hell are you doing here?" He scowled at Logan. 

"I'm here to save your ass, bub." 

Bucky scooped up the shield and secured it once more to his arm. "I don't need my ass saved." Only he really did--or, at least, he didn't want to have to face the penis monster alone. The protest was on principle. If he told Logan yeah, he needed his ass saved, he'd never hear the end of it. 

Another tentacle aimed itself at his arm. Bucky sliced through it with the smooth edge of the tactical knife. 

"Yeah, you do." Wolverine stabbed his claws into a tentacle and pulled, shredding it in one smooth move. "I've seen enough hentai to know how this ends." 

"What the hell is hentai? Never mind. We need to kill it." 

Flailing tentacles took out another lighted billboard, sending down a shower of sparks. 

"You think?" Logan shredded another tentacle and sliced yet another. "How? You got a plan?" 

Bucky batted away one of the tentacles aimed at his mouth and he looked around. They were advancing. Each hacked tentacle brought them closer to the monster's body. And head. 

That was probably where all of its important parts were. 

"Explosion?" he suggested. 

Logan shot him a sharp look. All of his looks were sharp through that mask. "You've got explosives?" And then to the tentacle shooting toward his crotch, "No, you don't," and he sliced it like summer sausage. 

Bucky was glad he hadn't had lunch yet. He fumbled in his belt pouches, looking for one of the grenades. "Can you get me close?" 

"Yeah, yeah. Time for a fish fry." Logan turned, fists tight and claws out, and started running. Chunks of tentacles fell away from him and the air was thick with the mist of orange goo. 

Shield up, head down, Bucky followed. Why was he noticing how tight Logan's pants were? _Get your head in the game, Barnes._ It was almost too late when he noticed the tentacle around his calf. He used the shield to slice through the meat of it and shook off the writhing remains. 

The creature was wounded and angry. Its eyes blazed and its screams were blood-curdling. Logan took a flying leap to land on its head and sank his claws in just above its eyes. He stabbed again and again, until the tentacles writhed around them in a near-solid mass, spewing the thick orange goo. Bucky severed and slashed and smashed until he saw what he thought was the mouth. He bit the pin out of the grenade he held, tossed it into the creature's gaping maw, and shouted at Logan to get clear. 

They didn't make it far enough. Bucky twisted to look just before he expected the grenade to go off, and he saw it fall from the monster's mouth. The force of the explosion threw Bucky into Logan and both of them flat to the slippery concrete. The monster screamed--a shrill thing that pierced right through Bucky and made him cringe. Orange goo spewed from the sphincters on the tentacles still attached to the creature and oozed from the dead ones twitching all around them. Fleshy purple chunks rained down on them. 

Bucky closed his eyes and half-heartedly shifted the shield to protect them. His head pounded and he could feel the bruises he'd have on his elbow and hip. Groaning, he rolled off of Logan and shoved himself to his feet. 

The monster kept screaming. 

"Think we just pissed it off," Logan drawled, picking himself up.

Bucky grunted. He wiped orange goo off his gloves and then out of his eyes. He spit it out of his mouth and stared at the charred face of the creature. It looked right back at him, glowing eyes almost showing intelligence. He used the edge of the shield to slice off another tentacle. 

"Oh, just die already," he growled. He slung the shield on his back and started running. 

"Bucky! Aw, hell." 

Logan could back him up or not, Bucky didn't care. That thing was going to die and it was going to die _now_. He withdrew his sidearm, aimed, and started firing. He kept firing until he was close enough to smell the thing's breath, then he holstered the weapon and jumped. He caught a handful of flesh over the creature's eye, braced himself, and started hitting. He aimed for the eye with his bionic fist. 

It shook and screamed. Tentacles flailed and swatted at him, and their disturbing blunt heads poked and prodded at him. He was undeterred. He just kept punching. The eyeball burst, fluid and structures pouring out. 

"You just gonna beat it to death?" Logan demanded, at his back then and hacking at the tentacles as they swarmed around them. 

"If I have to!" 

Logan laughed. 

Bucky growled. "This isn't funny!" 

"It's fucking hilarious!" 

Maybe he hit a little harder than was necessary. Maybe he hit a little faster. Logan kept the tentacles off of him. When the monster's eye socket was empty, Bucky reached in and grasped the first thing he found and he ripped. He pulled out fistfuls of brains, of translucent organs he didn't have names for, of long strings of blue nerves. 

The creature thrashed, now clearly in pain. Its screams took on a different character, more deeply penetrating than piercing. 

"Yeah, yeah," Bucky grumbled. He wiped his filthy glove off on the thigh of his pants and fished another grenade out of a belt pouch. 

"Again?" 

"It'll work this time." Bucky pulled the pin. "Get clear!" He made a fist around the grenade, punched into the monster's eye socket, and released the trigger mechanism as he lodged the grenade inside the thing's guts. He threw himself as far away as he could, and then he was chasing Logan, running for the safety of the storefront directly ahead of them. 

Bucky didn't look back. He didn't have to look to know that the monster was gaining on them. He unsheathed his tactical knife and hacked at tentacles as he ran. 

Logan shot him a look over his shoulder. "Was that thing defective?" 

"It better not be!" 

Slowing down was a mistake. The explosion flung them through the plate glass of the shop front. The monster used the last of its strength to lunge, lodging itself in the empty frames. Shrapnel, paper, bits of tentacles, orange goo, and monster guts rained down on them. Bucky huddled under the shield, using it to his best ability to keep Logan safe, too. 

When the fire died and the monster was dead, Bucky could see the tentacles twitching and oozing. They didn't writhe, though. _Gotcha, bastard._ Bucky stood and with Logan one step behind him, they moved forward to shove the monster out of the way. 

And that, of course, was when the whole front of the building collapsed, trapping them. 

Logan scoffed. "Way to go, Bucky Cap." 

Bucky made a face. "Don't call me that." He tapped his radio mic to activate it. "Command?" 

"...ear you... Cap..." 

Bucky wasn't sure if that meant they could hear him or if they couldn't. "Gotham City Video has just collapsed on us. We need a rescue." 

"...vengers... way... tight." 

Bucky sighed. "Right." Whatever that meant. "Cap out." He shut off the radio and ripped off his cowl. "I guess they're coming for us." 

Logan grimaced. "Hope they bring a water hose." He retracted his claws and tugged off his mask, then peeled off his gloves. "What the hell is that orange shit, anyway?" 

"Don't know." Bucky pulled off his own gloves. Everything smelled like burned seafood and that subtly-familiar musky-sweet scent. Why couldn't he place that smell? He surveyed their surroundings and laughed wryly. "Of course we got stuck in a sex shop." 

"At least we have something to pass the time." Logan grinned, selecting a magazine from the rack behind the till that had, miraculously, survived. Then he laughed, too, and turned the rag so Bucky could see the cover. "Look, it's your new favorite." 

A comely young woman--animated in that peculiar Japanese style, Bucky was savvy enough to recognize--was being ravished by dark pink tentacles. 

Nightmares. He was going to have nightmares about tentacle rape porn. Bucky scowled. "I never understood that shit." 

"Of course you didn't." Logan leaned back against the counter and started flipping the pages. "You don't hate yourself like the rest of us _superheroes_." He laughed, low and bitter, as if at a private joke. 

Bucky shook his head and rolled his eyes. It was so hot in the shop. He tugged at the seal of his suit until he could open it from neck to navel. He scratched at his throat and then at his belly. Heat jolted through him, a shock to his system. 

Understanding began to dawn in his mind. 

Oh. Oh, shit. He circled back around to one of the largest twitching tentacles and crouched beside it. In the dim emergency lighting, he looked. He reached out to dip a fingertip into one oozing sphincter. He brought the glob of goo to his nose and he sniffed. 

"Fuck." 

Logan looked up. "Fuck?" 

Bucky stood, groaning. Fuck. "Sex pollen." And now that he'd deliberately sniffed it, now that he knew what it was on his fingers, on his skin, he couldn't stop touching himself. He craved the slide of skin on skin. 

"Um, that's not pollen, bub." 

Bucky glared at him. "No shit. It's worse. It's supposed to be lubrication." Saying the word made him think of just what it could be used for, and he had to stop himself from letting his hand sink further, past his belt. "It's not getting to you?" 

Logan just smiled at him. "Plenty of material here." He rustled the pages of the magazine. "There's a dark corner." He jerked his head. 

Bucky's eyes narrowed. "I'm not doing that in front of you," he said. Even though he kind of wanted to. He kind of really wanted to. He wanted-- No. Nope. Stopping that train of thought _right there_. 

Logan chuckled, low and dark. "You did way worse back in '44." 

_That._ Bucky groaned. He'd been so careful--and Logan had still walked in right when he shouldn't have. That's what he got for trying what he did with the Invaders in the next room. "Gretchen never forgave me, either," he grumbled. 

"She probably forgave you once she found out you died a hero. She was a good girl." 

"You are not helping!" 

Logan shrugged and leaned back against the counter again. "Monster's dead. I'm done helping." He switched the magazine to a one-handed hold and unsealed his own suit. "You're not gonna wanna look, bub." 

Bucky jerked. Logan was compact and stocky and hairy--incredibly hairy, something that always surprised Bucky whenever he let it register--and he _liked_ it. What the _hell_? He turned on his heel, grabbed the first magazine he found, and stalked off to the darkest corner, as far away from Logan and the smoldering front of the shop as he could get. 

He had regrets as soon as he opened the first page. Buff, compact, hairy men with gray on their heads and on their chests were holding their short, fat cocks, or pushing those short, fat cocks into the welcoming assholes of younger men. Younger men with smoother bodies, leaner muscles, and softer hair. 

Bucky bit off a groan. 

And he did it right about the same time as Logan didn't bother to stifle his. 

Bucky turned, instinct before thought, and knew as soon as he did that it was a mistake. Logan was leaning against the counter, legs spread, head back. The magazine was on the floor near his boot and he had one hand on his chest and one hand wrapped around his own short, fat cock. 

That groan, Bucky couldn't muffle. 

"Enjoyin' the show?" 

Bucky sank his hand into his pants and tugged. It felt so good. Better than it should have. But not as good as it could. He withdrew his hand, slicked his palm with orange goo, and stuck his hand back into his pants. He wrapped his fingers around his cock and pulled again. 

"We should fuck." That didn't sound like his voice. He felt it, but didn't believe it. Had he really blurted that? Eyes rolled back in his head, he kept working his cock. He listened to the slick sounds of Logan's palm on his own dick slow. 

"What?" 

"We should fuck. Burn it off faster." 

"Are you using the goo?" 

Bucky raised his head, scowling. "Maybe." 

Logan growled. "You idiot kid. Pull your shit down so I can see, you ain't the only one gettin' a show." 

Bucky did as he was told, shoving the uniform off his shoulders and all the way to his thighs. He cupped his balls with one hand, squeezing and tugging, and stroked himself faster with the other. He could feel Logan's eyes on him. His skin burned. He needed _more_. 

"Slow down. You want to fuck?" 

All Bucky could think about was being one of the boys in that magazine. He nodded furiously, his sweaty hair flopping over his forehead. "Yes. You should fuck me." 

Logan laughed, a sound like broken glass over gravel. "Thought you'd never ask." 

Bucky stumbled over his boots and could barely move with his uniform around his thighs, but he made it across the shop. Logan grabbed him, one hand around the back of his neck and one hand on his shoulder, and Bucky wasn't sure who was more surprised when Logan kissed him. Hard. Bucky whimpered into the kiss, tasting cigar and beer and stale spit. Then Logan was running one rough hand from Bucky's shoulder, down the front of his body, and wrapping thick, calloused fingers around his cock. 

He spared a fleeting, terrified thought for those claws. 

Logan bit his shoulder and pushed him down, then, turned him around until he was on his hands and knees. He wiped orange goo off of Bucky's neck and slid those wet, sticky fingers into the cleft of his ass. Bucky shifted his weight to his bionic hand and reached with his flesh hand to jerk his cock as Logan shoved one, then two fingers into him. 

"I can't wait." Logan scissored his fingers. 

The full, stretched feeling made Bucky groan. "No one asked you to." He tugged harder at his cock, close, so close. He just needed-- 

Logan grunted and moved behind him. He lined himself up, set his hands on Bucky's hips, and drove in. 

It was right. It was good. It was exactly what he needed. Bucky arched his back and rocked into Logan's thrusts. Logan's hips snapped, driving his cock in as deep as it would go. Bucky felt full and stretched and when Logan leaned down over him, when he rubbed his hairy chest against Bucky's back and sank his teeth into the curve of Bucky's neck, it was all Bucky needed. He cried out once, his shout echoing through the destroyed shop, and came, sticky and hot, over his fingers and onto the floor. Logan's hips jerked again, twice, and Bucky felt the flood of heat inside, felt the tear of his flesh between Logan's teeth. 

They collapsed together, limp and panting. Logan was heavy on Bucky's back, pressing him down against the rubble. Bucky kept his eyes closed and took slow stock of himself. His skin didn't feel hot anymore. He didn't feel the stinging desperation. 

And now his ass and neck were sore. 

And he'd just let Logan fuck him. 

He didn't think he was ever living that one down. 

Logan rolled off of him, pulling out with a slick squidgy feeling that made Bucky shudder. He flopped down beside him, and a moment later, Bucky heard the scrape of the lighter and smelled the cigar. He had no idea what to say or how to say it or if he should say anything. This wasn't exactly his usual post-coital scene. 

And he was still lying there with his ass exposed. He shifted until he could at least get his uniform back up to his waist. He really wanted a nap. 

"You gonna be a baby about shit now?" 

Bucky snapped his head at Logan and glowered. "What?" 

"Yours ain't the first ass I've fucked and it won't be the last." Logan snorted. "Hell, this ain't even the first time the sex pollen got me. Word of advice." Logan looked him in the eye. "Next time, don't rub it all over your junk."


End file.
